The Problem
by UnicornShenanigans
Summary: Daryl Dixon has a problem. (Should probably warn people it's smutty. Oh man, so smutty.)Non-ZA/AU
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I have this on AO3, but thought about giving this site a shot. Basically I was trying to be a big girl and write smut like an adult. This is the result of that.

Daryl Dixon has a problem. It came out of nowhere and has blonde hair, blue eyes, and legs too long for someone that short. He wasn't even supposed to be at Rick's that day, just a quick stop Rick swore to grab something he forgot. So that's how he ended up standing in the doorway of Rick's house watching Judith's babysitter on her knees looking for a toy Judy threw with her perfect ass swaying in the air. Once she found it, she had popped up and turned around to face them and he was fucked. Certifiably fucked. Fucked so hard he doesn't even remember what it was like to be less than completely fucked.

He wonders if he can get Rick charged with attempted murder because having him walk into his house and seeing that girl almost killed him on the spot.

Probably not, he thinks. That's too bad because he's pretty certain he gets Carl and Judy if something happens to Rick and then she can be his babysitter. Which can't be a healthy train of thought. Suddenly he wonders if she babysits pets too? If she does, he swears he's going to the shelter for a dog immediately.

He stands there waiting for them to quit talking so he can leave because if he doesn't leave soon he is going to die. He knows it. He is just waiting for the inevitable when she walks up to him and sticks her incredibly delicate hand out at him, ready to shake his hand telling him her name is Beth Greene and it's nice to meet one of Rick's friends. He doesn't want to touch her (lie) because he thinks it might actually kill him and then she would be arrested for murder and she's far too pretty for prison, but he shakes her hand anyway and grunts out what sounded like his name. He's at least 60% sure it was his name anyway.

When they're back in the car (finally) Rick thinks it's hilarious. Daryl disagrees. It is not hilarious. It is dangerous and now he's been ruined for all other women by a girl who he only knows two things about; she's fucking beautiful and her name. That's just great. Rick gets a punch to the arm for uttering the words 'Love at first sight' and suddenly Daryl is considering attempting to murder Rick so he can go to jail and avoid his new problem altogether.

Avoiding her was probably the best idea, girls like her don't go for guys like him and his eyes don't need a reminder of what she looks like, he has his brain for that. Probably nightly. Fuck. He's so fucked he's going to walk crooked the next day.

Rick takes great pleasure in telling him all about her, how she's a farm girl (of fucking course she is), she's going to school while working and babysitting, she sings in the choir at her daddy's church on Sundays (naturally) if he felt like finding Jesus, and she performs at a bar downtown on weekends if he felt like doing something different on a Friday night. By the end of all of it, Daryl hates Rick and no longer thinks attempted murder is a bad idea. He may even be able to get away with it. He'll just show her picture to the jury and explain the situation and he's sure they'll absolve him of all wrong doing.

He'll just call that Plan B.

**0))oOo((0**

His avoidance plan falls to shit early on. She seems to always be at Ricks. And he runs into her at the grocery store. Wearing workout clothes. He is convinced in that moment that yoga pants were invented to destroy the hearts of men. The day he sees her in Ricks backyard in a bikini playing with Judy in the baby pool is the day he knows there is a heaven. And hell. He thinks he hates her in that moment. Standing there in a red bikini, wet, looking so innocent that even the color white looks tainted next to her and she's smiling at him. Smiling like she has no idea what she does to him.

The worst part is she's nice. If she were some sort of nut job he could look and not want to touch because he's had his fair share of ten kinds of crazy women and no thanks. But she's not crazy. She's sweet and good natured. She was raised right in every way he was raised wrong and even though he wants to touch her, he doesn't want to taint her. Even if she is a frequent star in his fantasies, writhing and groaning underneath him. Bouncing and screaming on top of him. Wet and plastered against him in the shower. On all fours in the bed of his truck. Stretched out and waiting for him across the leather seat of his motorcycle. Bent over the edge of his couch. Perched on the kitchen counter with her legs wrapped around him. But he hasn't put too much thought into it.

He does, in fact, run into her in a bar. And it's actually by chance because he was dragged out by a couple of co-workers at the shop he works at and he hates them, her, and himself when he sees her. Her hair is down and falling across her shoulders, she's got some sort of lacy see through shirt on and he can see hints of a pale pink bra and her jeans are so tight he's half convinced she was born with them because that's the only way she could have gotten them on. She smiles at him, of course, and tells him she hopes he will stay for the show since she's singing in just a little while. As she walks away he thinks his brain has short circuited watching her and her perfect ass and long legs disappear into the crowd.

By the time she's done singing he's thinking about his face buried between her thighs and wishing he could lick the dimples on her back, because they look like they need to be licked and he would be more than happy to offer himself for the job when she finds him again. She still smiling at him when she asks if he can take her home because her sister left with her fiancee and she didn't have her own car and he wants to say no. He's not going to, but he wants to. Thank god he has his truck otherwise she'd have to put her hands on him and he's not sure he could survive that right now. Not that he can survive any better having her in the truck with all the images of her straddling him in the cab running through his brain.

She smells fucking wonderful. His whole truck is going to smell like her and he wants that smell all over his skin. She suggests they stop for ice cream cones and he wants to kill himself right there. He's starting to think she knows what she does to him. In fact, as they sit there eating their cones, he's sure of it. Especially when she crawls over the bench seat and kisses him sweetly on the lips saying how she's wanted to do that for weeks. If he could move he would, but he can't. He's thinking about how her lips are the earthly equivalent to a religious experience when she kisses him again and he breaks. He's got her face in his hands pulling her over to sit on his lap while running his hands down and over her ass as she moans into his mouth. He only wishes he had been creative enough to add ice cream cones into the truck fantasy because it made it so much better.

He quickly finds out she is not innocent. There's a chance she's pure evil as she whispers in his ear about going back to his place. He doesn't remember driving there, but they got there safely and that's a plus. They're wrapped around each other before they even get in the front door and he hopes the nosy old lady next door who is always trying to set him up with her daughter sees them so she can finally leave him alone. He's got his hands in her shirt, pulling it off over her head and she's tugging at his shirt as they make their way to his bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes. He tosses her onto his bed in just her bra and those damn jeans and as he pulls them off and her little pink panties that match her little pink bra become visible he growls at her and she smiles at him as she stands up and turns around to unfasten her bra and he can't help himself as he kisses a trail down her spine and finally, **finally** gets to lick those goddamn back dimples that haunt him.

She's moaning and as he stands and turns her around he catches sight of her pretty pink nipples he can't help but run his thumbs over them, feeling them harden as she sighs with a look of bliss on her face. He lays her back on the bed climbing over her kissing her throat, her pulse points, her collarbones, the soft skin of her breasts while running his tongue over those nipples that he's already decided are by far the best nipples he's ever seen anywhere, down her rib cage, down her stomach and into her navel and he smiles into her skin when she squirms a bit from his scruff tickling her.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them slowly over her smooth legs and if he wasn't sure before, he is now, there is heaven on earth and she's now laying naked on his bed, smiling at him. He kisses his way up from her ankles to her calves to the inside of her thighs worshiping both legs the way he has thought about for weeks before he moves to her center and lets his tongue slide against her slit making her hips jump off the bed as she hums in pleasure. He has to hold her hips down while he circles her clit with his tongue, flicking and sucking and swirling. She tastes so good and his face is soaked and he's sure that if he died right now he would go with a smile on his face. When he slides a finger in her heat and feels how tight she is, he groans in anticipation. She's bucking against his face and once he adds a finger and slides them back and forth, she reaches her peak and comes with a scream he definitely hopes that nosy old bat hears.

She's got her hands in his hair pulling him up her body and she's grasping for his belt, trying to get it undone and he's staring at her in wonder because if he wakes up tomorrow and this was all a dream, it would have been the best dream of his life. He helps her get his pants off and she's pulling him back down on top of her kissing him and running her hands over his arms telling him to please, please just fuck her now. He groans into her neck and pushes himself further between her thighs and he can feel her wetness on his rapidly becoming too hard for comfort dick and each time he rubs against her, her breath hitches and he's going to come all over her thighs like a teenager if he doesn't stop soon so he gets back up to grab a condom and once it's on, he's pushing into her with a moaned out _fuck_ because it's the best thing he's ever felt and she's moaning his name into his skin as he slides in and out.

He can't remember his own name at this point so it's good she keeps repeating it because he is lost in this girl. He is thrusting faster and faster and her hips are meeting each movement and she's got her nails in his skin and her legs wrapped around him and they are both covered in a sheen of sweat when he flips her over to ride him for awhile. She's glorious on top of him like he knew she would be, all golden haired and lithe body bouncing and when she leans back and places her hands above his knees he thinks he's just got tickets to the best show on earth as he watches her sliding up and down him, rotating her hips every so often. Once one of her delicate little hands travels down to her rub at her clit he has to change position because with the show she's giving him, he's not going to last. He flips over on her hands and knees and they both hiss when he slides back into her, all the way to the hilt. He's got his hands on her hips as he pistons into her heat staring at the perfection that is her entire back. Her spine, the dimples, her ass, it's all amazing. She's moaning louder and he can feel her tighten around him as she comes again with a cry and as her legs go weak he flips her back to her back so he can look into her eyes as he comes.

He's back between her thighs with his head buried into her neck sucking lightly as she is lightly biting his collarbone and he can feel himself getting close as he ups his pace and pulls his head up to look at her. Her blue eyes are staring back at him while she is biting her lower lip holding on tight to him and he can't take it anymore and he comes with a loud "**_FUCK_**" cried out into her hair and his weight falls on top of her, sated.

In the morning light he wakes up and doesn't remember falling asleep. He doesn't know how they got under the blankets. He doesn't care either. As he looks over to the beautiful woman laying in his arms, hair a wild mess and slightly smeared make up he can't help but think that she is by far the best problem he has ever had.

A/N: There is a second part in Beth's POV.


	2. Chapter 2

Is it possible to have an orgasm by just _looking_ at someone? Because if you can, Beth Greene experienced it. She did not expect what she saw when she stood up from grabbing Judy's toy from the floor. She heard the door open, heard Rick talking even, but she did not expect _him_. He stared at her. Of course he did, she must have looked like an idiot crawling around on the floor. She tried to listen to Rick, she was even composed enough to look at Rick the whole time he's talking, but every cell in her body wanted to walk over to that man and drape herself on him like a curtain.

She was pretty sure no one would appreciate that so she introduced herself to him and in the sexiest voice she has ever heard he tells her his name is Daryl Dixon while shaking her hand and when she felt how much bigger his hand is compared to hers and how it's calloused and rough and she suddenly wanted every inch of those hands touching her. All of her. Everywhere. He was wearing a leather jacket and beat up jeans and boots and she wondered how inappropriate it would be to ask him to bend her over Rick's couch right then and there.

Probably a bad idea, she thought with an internal sigh. Guys like that don't go for girls like her.

And that's how it went for weeks. Weeks of seeing him at Rick's, polite small talk, staring at him from afar fantasizing about rough hands on her skin and bearded scruff on her neck. The mortifying moment she runs into him wearing her yoga clothes, sweaty and definitely not smelling her best had to be the most awkward of them all. Until he caught her off guard playing with Judy in her baby pool while wearing her ratty old bikini. Not sexy. Not that she was trying to be, she was babysitting, but still. She thought about her definite lack of curves and how she must look to a guy like him. A guy she is sure gets attention from much more voluptuous women and she wanted to hide, but she was stuck so all she could do was give a small smile and wave at him.

Her friends told her to go for it, that any man would be insane not to want her. She wasn't so sure. She had been the good girl, the farmers daughter, church choir singer, straight A student, the _nice_ one for so long she had convinced herself she had nothing to offer a guy like him. But she did love to look at him. Broad shoulders and built arms; messy and scruffy and sexy all at the same time, she found the mere sight of him intoxicating. She wanted to ride his motorcycle. She wanted to ride _him_ on his motorcycle. She wanted to get underneath him, bend over for him, cling on to him like he would be her saving grace, get on top of him, wear nothing but one of his shirts while he fucked her, have his hands in her hair while she's down on her knees, feel him grabbing the back of her thighs while he holds her against a wall...not that she's thought about it or anything.

**0))oOo((0**

She didn't expect that little stunt she pulled in the bar to work, but it did. She knew what she was doing when she suggested ice cream and she certainly knew what she was doing when she kissed him. She also knew she needed to relieve her sexual frustration. The frustration _he_ caused. Throwing all her cards on the table may have been risky, but she needed to know. Needed him to know.

So in the morning she was pleasantly surprised to wake up with his head between her legs. Before she was even coherent she could feel the glide of his tongue on her clit, sucking and licking side to side and up and down, circling, feels his lips sucking on her, feels his tongue going into the heat of her. He's holding her hips and pulling her closer to his face as she let out a low moan. Her thighs tried to close involuntarily but he moved his hands to hold them open, giving him better access to her center. Once he slid two thick fingers into her, she knew was done for. With the friction building she grabbed at the blankets on the bed, at his hair, anything within reach while she built up to her climax. As she came moments later she arched her back and let out a loud moan that she's sure someone had to have heard.

She felt him crawling up her body, licking and kissing and nipping every inch of bare skin he could find, giving her goosebumps and making her shiver. When he finally got to her mouth he pulled her in for a deep kiss and she could feel his hard dick on her thigh, begging for attention. She reached down to lightly stroke it and she heard him hiss and felt him bury his head in her neck. With a sudden strength she didn't know she possessed she pushes him onto his back towards the end of the bed crawling up his legs, she feels like a predator stalking her prey with the way he's looking at her wide eyed. As she reaches his hips kissing the hardened muscles, she's running her fingers down his sides, feeling him shiver at her touch. Leaning down, she takes his dick back into her hands and as she sinks her mouth around him she hears a breathy _Oh Fuck_ come out of his mouth as she feels his hands go into her hair. Bobbing up and down like he's the most delicious thing shes ever tasted she looks up and locks eyes with him and she swirls her tongue around the tip of him and she sees his eyes roll back in his head as he lets go of her hair and falls off his elbows and flat onto his back.

Suddenly she's pushed back up and back onto her back feeling him settle between her thighs and she wraps her legs around his waist and with every slight movement she could feel him rubbing along her slit, making them both moan with anticipation. She needed him buried inside of her. As he reached for a condom from the nightstand she began kissing and nipping at his collarbone, feeling him move to put the condom on and gently press into her.

She lost all train of thought as he slid in and out of her, feeling the tension building low in her abdomen, her cries were probably too loud, her hair must have been ridiculous, god only knows what happened to her make-up, she knows she needed a shower but none of that mattered while he was buried to the hilt deep inside her. As both her pulse and the pace of his thrusts increased and his face is buried in her neck, biting her softly. She's got her hands grabbing the back of his hair, holding on as if her life depended on it. Although quite possibly it does as her second orgasm hits her hard and she thinks she screamed. Or blacked out. Or went into another plane of existence because that was the best damn thing she has ever felt. She's vaguely aware that his thrusts have gone erratic and when he comes she feels his whole body tense as he groans out a string of curse words that could make a sailor blush.

He falls off and to the side of her face down into a pillow breathing heavy and she laughs at his plight. He turns his head and stares at her with one eye and that's all it takes to take her breath away. He's staring at her like she's an angel and he's a man desperate for salvation. He reaches his arm out and pulls her by the back of her neck to him, kissing her deeply, tongues chasing, biting lips, rough hands running along the soft skin of her neck, tracing her jawline. She can feel his chest pressed up against hers as he wraps a strong arm round her back to pull her even closer to him. When they finally break apart, both breathless and messy from sex and sleep, she stares at him, into the deep blue of his eyes wondering if this was a one time thing. She's not sure she can handle having just a taste of this man. He's looking back at her with a contemplative look and she feels the first flutter of nerves since last night and she's wondering if she's overstayed her welcome. She's not usually insecure but there is something about this man that makes her feel open and raw when he looks at her. Like he already knows all her secrets.

She's waiting for the blow, the conversation that expresses that this was a one night thing. That he had fun and hopes to see her again sometime and he can take her home anytime she's ready. He's staring at her so hard it feels like a physical touch and as she's steeling herself for the words she knows are about to come out of his mouth she hears, "How do you feel about pancakes?"

**A/N: I have had some requests on AO3 for what happens after pancakes but right now I have no idea where it could go since I only wrote it to practice smut. I'm going to leave it in-progress because you never know if inspiration might strike. I want to thank you all for all the nice reviews! I'm terrible at responding because I don't know what to say. Honestly, just imagine me squeeing and fangirling just for you and you alone and you'll know how I feel. **


	3. Chapter 3

"How do you feel about pancakes?" he hears himself ask her. She's in his bed, naked, and he's asking about pancakes. Smooth. He just doesn't want this to be over. As much as he wanted to fuck this girl (and fuck her he did), he also wanted to _date _her. She's the kind of girl you date. Pick her up and take her out and do that shit you're supposed to do in a relationship. He thinks he would even bring this girl flowers. Good flowers too. Not the shitty kind he sees in the grocery store or gas station; the kind you have to go out of your way to find.

She lets out a light giggle and he swears there could be world peace if he could just get the rest of the world to listen to her laugh. It does things to him that only things involving touching his lower half have ever done before. He knows he's staring at her, but he can't help it. She's the kind of beautiful you stare at. Especially when she's in your bed and naked.

"I like pancakes," he hears the blonde angel tell him, peeking at him over the sheet she's holding up to her face.

"Then let's get pancakes," he tells her, yanking the sheet down and moving to scoop her up and carry her out of the room.

He hears her squeal in shock and laugh as she tries in vain to grab the sheet and take it with her. They won't need it where they're going. He carries the naked blonde into his bathroom and sets her down in the shower, getting in behind her. He moves so the cold water comes down on him first and they both erupt in goosebumps waiting for it to warm up. They're both laughing at his impetuousness while pretending they aren't dying of cold from the can't possibly be above freezing water.

Once the water warms up he's pushing her into it, soaking her hair and face, grabbing the shampoo and helping her wash her hair as he thinks about how much fun it will be to help her wash her body. After a minute he's working conditioner into her hair and his hands trail down her back and she's leaning into him as his hands come up around her front and runs them across her nipples, feeling them harden as her head tilts back with a moan. He takes the bar of soap and starts rhythmic circles along her body, going around the lines of her neck, between her legs, down to her hips, trailing across her abdomen as a soapy trail of bubbles cover her porcelain skin.

She turns around on him, grabbing the soap from him and starting on him while the warm water rinses her off. He's got his eyes closed, head leaning back as he enjoys the sensation of her small strong hands all over him. If it were at all possible he would always have her hands on him. Maybe she could go to work with him? He'd be more than happy to follow her around all day, every day as long as her hands stayed touching him. He doesn't know if that's possible, but he's willing to try and make it work. Once she pushes him into the spray of water he pulls her face to him for a kiss that goes from almost chaste to passionate in less than a second. She's got her hands in the back of his hair, he's got one hand on her lower back and the other on the back of her neck and he's pulling her into him.

Maybe taking a shower together wasn't the smartest thing to do, but he left his mind back in that bar last night and he's pretty sure he's not even going to go back and look for it. This constant state of arousal and passion and bliss is much better than anything logical his brain might try and feed him. Not that he would listen. Because he is fucked. He thought he was fucked before? No, that was nothing. This is the kind of fucked where you're sitting through stop lights because you can't stop thinking about a girl who smells like sunshine (and what the fuck does sunshine even smell like? Beth. It fucking smells like Beth. Maybe NASA needs to be informed that he finally figured out what the sun smells like? He'll think about that later. Probably when he's supposed to be working) and whose smile and laugh makes you think about changing everything you've ever done bad in life because she deserves nothing but the best you can give her is the level of fucked he is currently at.

So in other words, he's_ fucked_. But happy about it.

He doesn't remember how it happens but he's got her trapped between him and the wall and their bodies are slick with water as he pushes into her while she holds the back of his neck and he's got her thighs spread out against the wall. That's when he notices how flexible she is and he has to take a moment or he's going to come early and that's not the plan. The plan is to hold her up against the wall of the shower until his arms burn and her legs are shaky and weak and they both come so hard they see stars. He's trying to think about anything that will slow him down. Anything at all. Finally the nosy old bat neighbor of his has a purpose, he silently thanks her as he can feel some semblance of control coming back to him.

She's moving her body along with him and moaning into his neck while biting it. If there's a mark there he doesn't care. She's already marked him; deep in the bones because she is that far under his skin. He doesn't understand why he's not kissing her so that's what he does and when he realizes she has brought her hand down to rub furiously at her clit he thinks he might die. He might actually die from pleasure and if that's not the best way to go, he doesn't know what is. They're both moaning into each others mouths as they start the build up to the finish and if he hears the wall possibly crack a bit while he's pounding hard and deep into her, he's going to act like he didn't hear a thing. All he wants to hear are the sounds she's making. And she doesn't disappoint. They crash over the edge together, her with her head as far back as she can take it with eyes closed; him with barely enough awareness to pull out and release against the shower wall as he stares at her face. He thinks he can come just by _watching_ her. He desperately wants to put that theory to the test.

Needless to say the shower has gone cold and his arms _are_ burning and her legs _are_ shaky. He briefly wonders if they can slide down the wall and just sleep in the bottom of the tub, but he told her he's getting her pancakes and that's what he intends to do. As they're drying off (okay, they're drying each other off but...semantics) they're both out of breath and giggling and ridiculous and he knows it but doesn't care. If you can't be ridiculous with the girl that you had your dick in multiple times in less than 12 hours, who can you be ridiculous with?

It takes longer than he thinks to get dressed, mainly because he tossed her clothes without thought and she can't find anything. Everything is all spread out and she is fucking adorable searching his room for her panties in a towel with wet hair. She tells him to stop laughing and help her, but no. He'd rather watch because he is entranced and if she never finds them that means they are fair game for him to keep. He's never had a sex memento. He's disappointed when she finds them and her bra. She's slowly gathering articles of clothing and now he's glad she found them because she dropped the towel to put them back on and it's killing him that she's walking around like that but it's the kind of death you welcome.

It's like she never wants to make it out of the house. Walking around like a goddamn lithe goddess, bending over, reaching up, basically torturing him in all contexts he can think of. He watches her braid her wet hair and shimmy into those tight jeans as he is pretending to look for his own clothes. Clothes that are readily available because this is his house but she is far more interesting to look at. Once they're both dressed they manage to actually make it out of his house and to his truck. He's kind of surprised at that, but he supposes food might be important.

He takes her to a diner he frequents which may not have been the best idea, but it has the best pancakes in town. It's like everyone he knows is there and he can feel his ears burning and this _will_ get back to Rick within an hour. He knows that much. And it's exactly what it looks like. They both have damp hair, she's in clothes way too nice for a Saturday diner breakfast, and she's got a hickey visible and he thinks he does too. And he doesn't think he cares all that much. Maybe he should but if he has his way, this diner will see this girl a lot more often. As in, all the time. Maybe he can convince her of his good intentions with pancakes and coffee. It's possible, right?

She orders an enormous amount of food for a person her size. Chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, bacon, coffee, and orange juice. Plus toast. Who needs toast and pancakes? Beth. That's who. Mainly because she eats almost all of it and he doesn't know if he's impressed or turned on by the amount she packed away. Both, probably. They talk over breakfast and he learns she's going to school to be a music teacher, she moved out of her daddy's house and into an apartment with friends, her older sister is marrying some guy named Glenn, her apartment doesn't allow pets otherwise she'd have a dog (not that he thinks about getting a dog...again...just for her, not for a second), and she wants to take Judith to the public pool, but doesn't trust that it's totally safe if she takes her by herself.

He doesn't want breakfast to end, so they sit while drinking refills on their coffee talking about nothing in particular. He does, in fact, get a text from Rick within the hour. A text that says, "Anything interesting happen last night?" and all he can do is manage to send a short, "Fuck you" back to him because yeah, something interesting did happen last night. He can practically hear Rick laughing from his house and does not look forward to what the next time he sees him is going to entail. It'll be worth it though.

He finally offers to drive her home and she says she left her car at the bar with a devious grin on her face. He tries to glare at her but can't because at least one of them had the balls to make a move. Any move. So he plays along for a minute because why not?

"At the bar, huh?"

"Yeah. At the bar."

"What happened to not having your car with you?"

"I lied?" she tells him as if it's a question, trying to hide the fact that her grin is getting bigger.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

"Hmmm. You're the devil girl, you know that?"

"I dunno, Daryl, my daddy thinks I'm an angel. Can't be both, right?"

"They'll make an exception for you."

"Good to know."

"You ready?" he asks her as he puts money down for their food.

"Yeah," she replies as he leads her out of the diner and to his truck. He is trying to quickly come up with ways to see her again. He wants to take her on a date. Or back to his place. He's really not picky. He's chewing his thumb while making small talk all the way back to the bar and he keeps looking over at her but she looks calm. How can she be so calm when it's taking everything he has to remain even the slightest bit collected?

She points out her car to him in the bar parking lot and the reality of not seeing her again sets in and he can't help it as he blurts out, "What are you doing tonight?"

She's giving him a thoughtful look and asks, "What you got in mind?"

"Dinner, a movie, nothing at all, everything you can imagine, what would you like to do?"

"You wanna take me to dinner?" she replies to him with what sounds like a little bit of wonder, like she can't believe he wants to see her again.

"'Course I do, why wouldn't I?"

She shrugged at him like she didn't know how to answer him, "You pick," she tells him as she grabs her purse and pulls out her phone. She holds out her hand for his and puts her number in it and calls herself so she has his number too.

"I'll text you my address and you can pick me up if you want. Or we can meet up somewhere, don't matter," she says to him grabbing her keys out of her purse.

Oh no, he _was_ going to pick her up. He was going to do this right.

"I'll pick you up. Is six o'clock okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine," she replies with a smile. Before she can grab the door handle and get out he pulls her in for another deep kiss, a kiss that leaves them both breathless and wanting more.

As she's sliding out of the truck and walking to her car she turns to look at him over her shoulder with a sly grin that immediately makes his pants just a little tighter and he thinks, _So totally fucked_.

**A/N: The inspiration for this always comes late at night and I honestly just try and make sure everything is spelled right, so excuse my errors. I'm tired and that's my excuse. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here's the date you perverts (that's a joke people). Mistakes are mine. I like them that way. **

About halfway back to his house Daryl realized he had no idea what to do on a date. He didn't really "date" so much as didn't date and didn't care to. He knew what he had to do and he was _not_ happy about it but if he wanted anything other than his brother's probable input of "get her drunk and bend her over" he was going to have to suck it up and face the music, even if he did like the idea of bending her over. A lot.

He's not admitting to taking the long way to Rick's but he's not denying it either or the fact that he suddenly needed to stop for gas and a detour because he thought he saw a stray dog that could have needed help in some way even though it was in the park playing with its owner. You never know. Eventually though, he sucked it up and headed in the right direction. And the fact that he may have sat in the driveway for longer than is socially acceptable is debatable without proof. After a pep talk to himself about "he can do this" and "this is for Beth" he got himself out of his truck and saw a grinning Rick holding a drooling Judith in the open doorway just waiting for him. Great.

"So the way I hear it is you took a pretty blonde home with you last night and took her to breakfast this morning," Rick teased as Daryl took Judith from him and walked past him into the house.

"That would be true," he replies while trying to avoid Judith's baby drool covered hands slapping him in the face while she laughs at the faces he's making. The baby is a good distraction. He can't possibly be expected to look Rick in the eye after fucking his babysitter senseless last night and this morning if he's holding the baby, right?

"I have a fair idea of who the pretty blonde is since you decided to take her to the diner everyone we know goes to. And especially since someone sent me a picture to ask if I knew her. And guess what? I do know her. I'm guessing not as well as you right now..." he trailed off as Daryl tosses a pillow off the couch into Rick's face.

"Hey! There's a baby in the room here."

"She doesn't even know where her nose is, I don't think she understands yet."

"Fine, _I'm_ in the room. Respect my delicate sensibilities."

"If the mark on your neck is any indication, there is nothing _delicate_ about your sensibilities. I'm guessing there is a reason you're here?" Rick asked him, taking Judith back and setting her in her playpen with her toys as he turns to smirk at Daryl.

Daryl sucked in a breath. He needed an idea, a good one and he knew Rick was good with all that shit. He wants to pick her up, he wants to pull out her chair, he wants to hold her hand or you know, stick his hands under the skirt she will hopefully be wearing. In his dreams, she's wearing a skirt, a sexy skirt. Although he thinks she could wear a burlap potato bag and he wouldn't notice because it's impossible to see her and care about what she's wearing. Unless it's sexy. Then again, he thinks everything she wears is sexy. There's a part of him that knows she could wear a cardboard box and he would forever be turned on by them. Every package in the mail would become a sexual thrill if that happened. Great, now he's getting slightly hot at the thought of her in a cardboard box. Okay, he's getting slightly hot at the thought of her, but really, there was a box involved and now Christmas will always be just a little bit dirty.

He looks up at Rick who is staring at him with a very amused look and he finally breaks,"I need to know how to go on a date."

**0))oOo((0**

If there is only one thing Beth wants right now it's that her roommates are either not there or asleep. And the first one is a no because she already saw their cars. When she gets closer to her apartment she hears the TV and wants to bang her head into the painted wood of her front door. Maybe they won't notice? For all they know she could have gotten home late last night and left really early. In the same clothes. And took a shower somewhere. That could totally work, right?

With a deep breath, she pushes the door open and prepares herself for the onslaught. She has two roommates, Tara and Amy; they're nice, they're good friends of hers, and they are never going to let her live this down.

Of course Tara speaks first, sitting on their couch in pajamas watching cartoons and eating cereal,"Where you been?" she asks not looking at her

"Out."

"We can see that. So, you gonna tell us about your mystery man?" Amy asks a with a grin. The kind of grin that means she wants details and _all_ of them.

"I was with Daryl."

That got their attention; both heads snapped up to look at her wide eyed. They had been hearing about Daryl for weeks, listening to Beth day dream and bemoan her inability to do anything about the crush that just wasn't leaving her.

"Yeah, he was at the bar last night. And no, I'm not telling you anything. And yes, I'm seeing him again. Tonight actually, so I'm going to go nap because I ate myself into a carbohydrate coma and I'm tired," Beth told them as she headed for her room.

"Carbohydrates...sure Bethie," she hears Tara snort out as Amy starts laughing. That's the last thing she hears as she shuts her door and flops out on her bed.

**0))oOo((0**

He hates Rick. That murder plot he once thought was a bad idea? It's back on the table.

He took all of Rick's teasing while he giving him advice and now he had to go find something called Gerbera Daisies. Apparently Carl knew those were her favorites. No, he doesn't know what a Gerbera Daisy is. And it has nothing to do with baby food by the way. He thought Rick was going to die from laughing when he asked why a baby food company had a flower named after them. It's not like he buys or plants or even looks at flowers. His friend Carol runs a flower shop and while he knew she would know what they are he knew she was going to be worse about the whole thing than Rick was.

It's now 5:45pm and he's got a bouquet of pink, yellow, and orange flowers on his passenger seat. They're pretty but he hates them. He took so much ribbing from Carol buying them that he might go buy more later just to stomp on. Between her and Rick and the amount of shit he's taken he is at his personal limit. And there's always the chance the only reason he made it through Carol's teasing was because he had a loop of last night and this morning running through his head and he'd really like to do all of that again.

He wants to say that nerves aren't getting him but then he would be lying. He is nervous. How can you be nervous with a girl that has shown you every inch of the Promised Land? But he is. He's nervous and excited. Upon Rick's advice he's taking her to a little Italian place downtown and since downtown is lively on weekends they can walk around and maybe get more ice cream because he really does adore the way she eats ice cream.

He's managed to find a button up shirt he didn't know he had and actual pants that aren't all ratty and he's standing there outside of the door she says is hers unless she sent him the wrong address prepping himself to knock when the door flies open and two girls who are _not_ Beth stand there staring him down. Both look mildly amused and he doesn't know what to say while they look him over. Eventually though he has to find his voice.

"Is Beth here?"

"Oh yeah, she's here," the darker haired of the two girls tells him while the blonde one calls out for Beth.

"So you're the reason she didn't come home last night? You know she fell asleep for hours, so you know, good job buddy," the dark haired girl tells him holding out her fist. He stares at it because he does not understand what she wants,"Fist bump dude," she tells him and he tries to comply but he really just wants to get Beth and go.

"Tara!" Beth says coming around the corner which must lead to her bedroom, not that he's thinking about her bedroom. But he sees her and _fuck_ she's gorgeous. She's wearing some strapless flowery looking dress thing with a little white sweater over her arm and oh god, some sort of strappy sandal looking things that have heels and sweet fuck it all her legs look amazing. His only goal now is to not get hard in front of her roommates. A goal he is struggling with.

After a round of introductions they manage to leave (although he decides the flowers are worth it seeing the smile she gave him as she handed them to Amy to put in water) and he's leading her to his truck with his hand on her lower back, opening up to door for her. And it's not just so he can get a glimpse of her ass as she crawls in. It's part of it sure, but not the whole reason.

They reach their destination and he's still nervous. He tried to make small talk, he tried to ask her questions but he can't stop looking at her legs and it's a good thing she's so good at talking because his brain stopped working before he picked her up and he can only hope it kicks in again before the food arrives. She takes his hand while walking to the restaurant and suddenly he's very aware of the male attention she's getting. Of course she is, she fucking beautiful. And she's holding _his_ hand. He doesn't get it but he's not going to question it.

Dinner is delicious, they both have some sort of pasta and she drinks some fruity girly drink and the conversation is easy (thank god) and they're both laughing by the end and genuinely having a good time. He suggests ice cream and he can swear he sees her eyes darken a little and he knows the feeling. Ice cream will always turn him on just a little bit from now on. They get their ice cream, he gets Rocky Road and she gets strawberry and he has flashes of all the ways you can eat ice cream off of somebody and it turns out, there are actually a lot of ways. He files that away for later but promises his brain to revisit it soon.

Walking around downtown with her is a lot more fun that he thought it might be. There is live music and artisans and street performers and she laughs and smiles and he stares at her the whole time. By the time they find a little park with a little pond with some ducks the summer sun is starting to set and when they are by the water he pulls her in for a passionate kiss and god, she tastes like ice cream and her fruity girly drink and it's so fucking delicious and he's instantly turned on and he thinks she is too. He's trying to control himself but he can't as he kisses his way down her neck and over her collarbone and his hands are on her back pulling her closer as she is breathing hard and moaning just a little bit and he feels accomplished at that. She nips his earlobe to get his attention and he is straining in his pants and too bad fucking in public is frowned upon. Well, at least on a first date.

"What do you want to do now?" he whispers into her ear, feeling her shiver at the words.

"How about you take me to bed?" she says, giving him a grin not even the devil could resist.

"I can do that," he tells her. So that's what he does.

**0))oOo((0**

Her dress doesn't even last past the living room, he's got it off and she's standing there in those strappy sandals and in a white lace thong and if he had had any idea she wasn't wearing a bra they would have never made it to dinner. She's leading the way to his bedroom, in heels and her pretty lace panties and he has a sneaking suspicion he would walk off a cliff if that's where she was leading him. All those times people ask you if so and so jumped off a bridge would you as well? Well, he can honestly say if Beth Greene was leading him then yeah, he probably would. Maybe not even on purpose but her round ass is so hypnotizing as it sits above perfect long legs that he may not even notice he's falling until he's already dead.

As soon as he's in the bedroom she's grabbing him and taking his shirt off pushing him towards the bed. Once the shirt is gone she's grabbing at his belt and pants as he is trying to kick his shoes off and she's determined. And god, is that sexy. In no time she's got him naked and on his back on his own bed and crawling up and over him like some sort of predator and he feels he is being stalked. And he likes it. She's taken to straddling him and she still has those damn shoes and lace panties on and he can't see straight because she has taken to nipping him everywhere. She leads her way down his body and takes him in her mouth and as she's moving her mouth up and down and working him with her hand and if he was coherent he could tell you how good it felt. But he's not, so he can't. He knows he cant't take much more so he pulls her off and flips her over and although he's sad to see those sexy panties go, they've got to. Immediately. He almost rips them off in his haste but leaves her shoes on. He likes those shoes. A lot.

He's kissing down her body, over those ridiculously perfect breasts and seriously, the best nipples he has ever seen. How can nipples be so pretty? As he licks and sucks she's moaning and trying to grind against him and he's smiling against her skin, because if you had a girl like her in your bed, you'd be smiling too. When he finally reaches his destination and licks just once against her slit the sharp intake of breath he hears her take goes on his list of favorite sounds. He's worshiping her clit with his mouth, licking, sucking, nipping, teasing her with his fingers in her heat as she is grabbing his hair and making sounds he's not sure she knows she is making. When she finally comes she clamps her thighs so hard against his head he sees stars and he might have a sex concussion. That's a real thing, right? He unlatches her legs from around his head and climbs up her and kisses her deeply. Biting lips and sucking tongues and hands in each others hair and the passion is palpable. He _needs_ to be inside of her. Now.

He's reaching for a condom when she whispers she's on birth control and he groans because this morning in the shower was fucking amazing and knowing he gets to go bareback again? Well, that's the best news he's heard all day. He slides back down her body and takes her shoes off because he wants her to come again so hard she passes out and sleeping in shoes is not a part of the plan. He's climbing back up her and sliding into her with a groan that he has no idea where it came from but he knows this feeling is not one he's willing to give up. She wraps her legs around his waist and he's burying his head in her hair and it's slow and passionate and intense. He's thrusting in and out and she's got her hands on the back of his neck, gripping the bottom of his hair and they're staring at each other the whole time. He can feel her tightening around him and he speeds up and goes as deep as possible and she's moaning with her head thrown back and he's breathing heavy into her neck as he feels his own climax building.

She comes right before him and feeling that, he lets go and comes deep inside with a long moan and a string of curses that he's not even sure are real words. He may have said her name. He doesn't know. He does know one thing though; he didn't fuck her this time. He made love to her.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: You'll have to excuse my errors. They were made while sleepy. And I'm not 100% but I think that's a legitimate excuse. Also, this was originally a one shot for me to get over my embarrassment writing smut. It has turned into a beast and has no real plot so I'm still working on smut and trying to make it coherent! Gold stars for you if you're making sense of my madness. **

He knew being born a Dixon wasn't a gift in life, but this is some form of divine torture that should really only be saved for the worst of the worst. He had no idea why he agreed to go. He knew damn well he was going to sit there entire time turned on without a damn thing he could do about it. But she had asked. Then Rick had asked. Then Judith got him in the face with chubby baby hands and a laugh and he knew he was going to do it. Okay, well, to be fair he knew he was going to do it the second she asked. Because he had two new favorite hobbies; spending time with Beth and spending time with Beth naked.

And that's how he found himself sitting at a public pool at the end of summer a few weeks after they started seeing each other. He knows he's out of place, he couldn't even tell you what swim trunks are supposed to look like so he knows he doesn't belong there. So he's watching Beth as she puts sunscreen and a hat on the baby and she's got all her hair pulled up on her head in a big knot and huge black sunglasses on with a tiny tank top and the smallest pair of shorts he's ever seen. He thinks they might be Judith's actually because there is no way they make shorts that short and small for grown women. Either way by the time she turns around to slide them down her long ass legs he's ready to write thank you notes to everyone who's ever had anything to do with the invention or manufacturing of shorts.

Of course she's wearing a bikini. Because she hates him. He can just tell. It's tiny and frilly and white and pink and purple and honestly? It belongs on the floor of his bedroom while he pounds into her so hard his headboard cracks against the wall. By the time he comes to, she's telling him she and Judith will be in the toddler area and points at it so he can know where they are. He watches her walk with the baby who is wearing a shiny baby swimsuit with built in flotation device and as he's watching her, he sees all the other people watching her. Well, men. A couple of women as well, but who was he to judge? If he was a girl he's pretty sure he'd still be thinking about a naked Beth. It doesn't sit well with him, but the last few weeks with Beth have taught him one thing; she's oblivious. She's polite and sweet and gives everyone equal attention while they are speaking to her and she has no idea that a lot of the time they are trying to flirt.

Have there been incidents where his jealousy got one up on him? He wants to say no. But he tries not to lie, so yeah, there's been couple of instances. Like the guy at the bar where she sang a couple of weeks ago that wouldn't let up and she was smiling and polite and trying to escape so what else was he to do but walk up to her and kiss her like a solider returning from war? The message sent was clear though. And it's better than when he almost broke one guys hand for putting it on her thigh when she was just making polite conversation. So yeah, he's watching a bunch of young horny guys stare at her as she gets into the kiddie pool and it bothers him. It bothers him and he finds it hilarious at the same time because she has _no_ idea what is going on around her. Which is adorable and infuriating. But mostly adorable because he's the one who gets to see her naked. He's the one who gets to fuck her in the shower before Saturday morning pancakes (it's a tradition now). He's the one who gets to hold her hand. He's the one who gets to see her sleeping like a starfish in his bed with tiny kitten sounding snores coming from her in her sleep. Him. Not them. So for the most part, it doesn't let it bother him. Unless they touch her. Then it's a problem.

He spends the next couple of hours watching Beth and Judith and almost falling asleep in the chair he's planted himself in and refused to move from. He knows they need to get to Rick's for the BBQ he's having, but his view is a half naked wet Beth. Rick can wait. When she finally comes back to where he's sitting, Judith looks exhausted. Which is good, because that was the plan.

**0))oOo((0**

Another couple hours later, Judy has napped, Beth has showered and changed and he is overwhelmed. He should have thought to ask who was going to be at this thing. But he didn't. So now he's trying not let Beth's sister, Maggie, catch him staring at her little sister even though that's all his brain wants to do. How can he be expected _not_ to look? She's wearing a short white dress with cowboy boots. With her hair flying everywhere. She's basically a breathing fantasy and while he's contemplating how to fuck her in the next 15 minutes he's also trying to make small talk with her sister and her fiance. They're both nice, both ask polite questions, there are no overt threats about dating her baby sister, she even invites him and Beth out to her place for dinner sometime. So really, better than expected. But he still can't stop watching Beth. She's sexy, oh so sexy, she's beautiful and wonderful and he is so lucky to be able to touch her but right now? Right now she's shoveling a massive amount of food into her pretty mouth.

"Impressive, right?" Maggie asks him, finally catching on to where he was staring.

"How does she eat like that?" Daryl half whispers in a combination of the same curiosity and awe he feels every time he sees her eat. And he's certainly never asked her about her food habits, he's a lot of things sure, but a fool ain't one of them.

"Nobody knows, it's just one of life's little mysteries."

"Huh," he replied as he made his way to where Beth was still sitting. And eating.

He sits next to her and she's got BBQ sauce all over her fingers and she's smiling at someones story when she looks over at him with a wide smile and there it is. His undoing. She's got this glorious smudge of sauce on her cheek and all he can think about is licking it off. In fact, if she wanted to have an art lesson in the removal of BBQ sauce from one's body, he's more than willing to learn. He is sitting there debating on licking it off when she grabs for a napkin and wipes it off. He thinks it might be the cruelest thing she's ever done. He wants to take her back to his place, no waiting, right now, get in the truck and go back to his place where they will pretend to want to make it to the bedroom but will end up on the living room floor. Again.

It would be rude to leave early and even though he wants to because he's been staring at the smooth thighs that are sticking out of her summer dress and he knows they can't. Maybe in a little while when Maggie leaves. Rick will know, he's not stupid but he'd like to make a slightly better impression on Beth's sister. So he's forced to sit there and talk to people and pretend he doesn't want to let his hands roam under the hem of her dress or under the edge of her frilly panties or up the insides of her thighs. It's painful. And she knows it. He can tell by the smiles she gives him, by the look in her eyes, by the way she leans into him. He knows what she wants. They spend a lot of time figuring that part out. That's not the only thing they do, they go out, they talk, they have fun, they sit in silence, they get bored, they sleep (and just sleep), they make fun of each other and their friends together. They're normal. He finds the simplicity of it amazing. Who knew being so normal could be so satisfying?

It's been 3 hours and she's sitting on his lap. Games are being played across the yard, music is playing, drinks are flowing, food is still being consumed (mainly by Beth at this point), and everyone is having fun. Even him. Despite having her on his lap and thinking of little else besides sliding between her legs and getting her to make the face where she scrunches her nose and bites her lip while throwing her head back. He loves that face. Halfway into another fantasy he hears Beth tell Maggie goodbye and he almost groans in relief knowing they can leave soon too if she wants. God, he hopes she wants to.

She turns her head to him and gives him a small smile. He knows that smile. To anyone else it might be an innocent grin, even to him, once in a bar on a Friday night it was an innocent grin. That's a lie. There is _nothing_ innocent about that smile. It's the smile she gives when she's about to crawl of top of him and make him feel like he's still 18. It's the one she gives right before getting into his bed in one of his t-shirts and nothing else. It's the one she gives when the real possibility of an indecent exposure charge on both their records is about to happen. So, yeah, he knows that smile.

**0))oOo((0**

As suspected they barely make into the door before clothes start flying. Her boots went in two different directions, his shirt lost a button in her impatience, the dress goes over her head, the tiny lacy frilly panties go flying and land on a lamp. That feat impresses him, actually. There's a bra that hits the couch and his pants are...somewhere. None of that matters as he's clinging onto her, kissing her, tongues chasing one another, kisses that move down necks and onto collarbones and shoulders. Biting under ears because he knows where her sweet spot is. She's got her nails clawing into his shoulders and he's laid out over her on the floor in the living room because even the couch was too far away apparently.

He's moving down her chest, licking and sucking on every inch of bare skin he can touch, running his hands up along her rib cage, smiling against her when he feels the shiver move through her body. He can tell she doesn't want foreplay. She doesn't want to be made love to slow and sensual and passionate. She wants to be fucked. Fucked into the floor of his living room until they're both sweating and breathless. She wants bruising grips on her hips and thighs. She wants to be bitten and sucked on and cherished and adored all at the same time.

He's got her hands gripped in his above her head and she's got her legs wrapped tight around his hips and back while he slides into her with a hard thrust. The moan she produces at the contact needs to be made into a ringtone just for him. Fuck, he would call himself constantly just to hear it. She's pulling her hands out of his and gripping his biceps as he goes for her hips to hold her down. She will buck like a bronco without restraint and he wants this to last. He knows he's rubbing her clit with each thrust and she's murmuring for him to go harder and faster and who is he to not give into his girl's requests? So he goes harder and faster and they are sweating and making sounds that neither one of them are aware of. He can feel her tightening around him and knows she's about to finish and the long low moan she makes gives him goosebumps while the feel of her around him sends him over the edge.

He's vaguely aware of announcing that he was coming, he's pretty sure that's what he said. That doesn't surprise him. What _does_ surprise him however is his elderly neighbor and her daughter she is always trying to set him up with standing in his doorway. There are four bright red faces looking at each other in total silence. His first thought is gratitude for it because now at least she will leave him alone. The second thought is to cover Beth's body with as much of his as possible. There are no words for this situation. None that he can think of anyway. So he says nothing.

All of the sudden he hears the daughter say, "Mama, I don't think he said to come in at all," as she is trying to pull her very mortified mother away from the door. And she's right. What he said and "Come in" might sound the same but it's definitely not what he said. Once they hear the door close Beth lets loose with hysterical giggles and he can't help but laugh. In a horribly humiliated way, but he's still laughing.

"I'm moving. She knows Rick," he tells her once she's calmed down.

"I'm leaving the country. She goes to church with my Daddy," she replies, putting her hands over her face.

Well, fuck.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I wanted to thank everyone for all the reviews and follows and favorites! They feed my soul and I am terrible at replying to reviews because this site is the pits, but I love each and every one of you! **

Damage control. That's what she called it.

Pure unadulterated fear of the unknown and the willingness to sell his soul to avoid a shotgun to the face is what he called it. And that's how Daryl found himself sitting in a church next to Hershel Greene the very next morning. He did not want to be there. But when Beth kindly pointed out that her daddy didn't take a gun to church, he knew a good option when he heard it. The meeting had been pleasant. Shaking hands and introductions and an invitation to Sunday supper and everything was friendly. For the time being. He had seen his neighbor; not that she would look him in the face but he had seen her. A few people had thrown him a curious glance or two but no one has come out and thrown holy water in his face while screaming about fornication and sins and lust or something else he knew nothing about like he expected.

Hershel had introduced him to a few people before they sat, telling people he was "Bethie's young man" while making small talk with him in the mean time. He wanted to know about Daryl's job, how he knew Rick, how he and Beth met, how long they had been seeing each other. He answered everything wondering why Beth hadn't mentioned any of it. His confusion must have shown because he heard a chuckle come from Hershel as he explained.

"Don't worry, Bethie's told me all this, but after Maggie, I find it prudent get two sides to the story. That girl drove me and my Annette to distraction. Bethie's always been such a good girl but old habits die hard."

"Oh," is all he can get out while desperately trying not to think of Beth being a "good girl" for him in any sexual capacity because the fear of being struck down in the middle of a church still lingers in the back of his mind.

That's all he gets out as the service starts and he sits in silence for the duration until Beth comes out with the choir and then he is captivated. He doesn't know what she sings, has no idea the words or the song because all he sees is the beautiful woman standing there singing to the heavens with golden hair and then he makes it worse for himself because he knows she has a supremely dirty mind. The juxtaposition of seeing her singing pure words and intentions and knowing he had had her bent over his bed earlier this morning sent about ten different emotions through him. Mostly desire. A little guilt because he is sitting next to her daddy. While Beth fantasies are his favorite pastime they are wholly inappropriate for where he is so as he tries to reign it in he catches her eye and she gives him a look. Like she knows what he is thinking. She probably does, he has no doubt. Like he said, the girl has a supremely dirty mind.

He makes it out of the service unscathed and he sighs in relief until he remembers. Sunday supper. At the farm. Well, at least he knows he got in one last audience with the lord before people start dragging all the lakes for his missing body. It was a decent life. Merle will probably want his motorcycle. That's fine, Rick would never let Carl have it anyway. Too bad he didn't have a will to leave Beth anything. Not that he had anything she would want. Maybe his shirts. She stole those often enough but then again, she probably had a nice collection at her apartment. He has no idea how many she had but it was enough for him to almost consider buying new ones. Almost.

He meets her after church, as they would be driving to the farm in his truck because that's how they arrived at the service. Hopefully Hershel didn't connect those dots too quickly. Or maybe he thought he picked her up. That's a good option. There is something about meeting the daddy of the woman you are not only seeing but sleeping with on a regular basis that he suddenly finds unsettling. While her daddy thinks of her and sees pigtails and ribbons and toothy grins, he sees a beautiful woman. One he has seen in lacy lingerie and completely naked while she rides him like she's auditioning for a rodeo. The cowboy hat she had on that one time really pulls that image together by the way, especially since it was the only thing she had on at that moment. That was a good day. If he doesn't make it out alive, he's going to miss those days.

**0))oOo((0**

The farm. It's fucking picture perfect. Of course it is.

He watches Beth hop out of the truck and run full speed at what he assumes is her older brother who had come to visit from Atlanta, which is why her Mama wasn't in church from what he understands. He tried to pay attention but he had been running on adrenaline and coffee and he is simply waiting for something to implode. He doesn't know why, nothing bad has been said or hinted at. But he can't relax. That's when they get you.

Okay, maybe he's slightly paranoid. But only slightly and who can blame him after being caught sticking it to the farmers daughter by one gossipy old woman and her highly embarrassed daughter? It's a small town. Not too small, but small enough that something _will_ get back to the one person you hope never hears it. That's a given.

He watches Beth tackle who he is starting to really hope is her big brother and she's smiling and laughing and happy and suddenly she's pulling on him back to Daryl who has yet to get out of the truck. Self preservation is what he tells himself. It's a brief moment of peace before she's pulling him out of the truck, introducing Daryl to her brother Shawn and let's go because she wants him to meet her Mama, who is just going to love him by the way. Daryl's not so sure. She's holding his hand and walking fast with her blonde hair bouncing and is pointing out the barn, the stables, the chicken coop (which she would have him know should be avoided because there is a mean rooster named Brutus who only likes her Mama and her), and finally up the porch and into the big white house Beth grew up in.

Beth's mama looks just like her. Light golden hair with big blue eyes and big friendly smile. He's slightly more at ease meeting her as she tugs on his arm to pull him into the kitchen for coffee or cakes or cookies or something food related that started with a c. He is admittedly overwhelmed. No one has hinted that they might know anything about what happened yesterday and everyone is being nice. Too nice. Growing up with Merle gave him second thoughts about people being nice. As in, they usually aren't. So his paranoia persists.

He has a conversation with Maggie, then Glenn, then Shawn and Hershel who give him variations of the big brother/father speech about taking care of his little sister/baby girl and the usual threats. Annette tells them to leave him alone because Bethie has always shown good judgment except the _one_ time she tried to sneak out but fell out of the tree and twisted her ankle. Then she turns the attention to Glenn and how soon is she going to get grandbabies after the wedding? Glenn gets flustered and all mentions of Daryl and Beth's relationship comes to a halt. And in that moment, Daryl thinks he loves Annette. He's pretty sure every man in that house would ask 'how high?' if she asked them to jump. Himself included. Something in his bones tell him you don't mess with Annette Greene.

Beth's in the kitchen making...something. She's singing and barely dancing to whatever song is playing in her head and he is awestruck. He always is with her, but each time he sees her in a new situation it reminds him of how much he likes her. So very much is how much by the way. On the verge of more than like and maybe that should terrify him but it doesn't and he's more worried that he isn't terrified than anything else. He's staring and she has no idea he's there. And he has no idea that Annette is watching him watch her daughter until she's right next to him.

"She's got you wrapped around her little finger, doesn't she?" he hears Annette whisper to him.

He knows damn well this is some kind of test but he can't concentrate and he can't look away and before he can come to an agreement with his brain to mouth filter he bursts out with, "She managed that before I even knew her name."

He hears Annette give a little sigh and before he can decipher what that means she's moving into the kitchen with Beth and then they're together cooking whatever it is they're cooking, both of them humming and singing and laughing and for the first time since yesterday afternoon he is content.

Supper is delicious. As he knew it would be. Roast beef and potatoes and green beans and biscuits and more food than is normal but then again, he knows how Beth eats. And she doesn't disappoint. One day the question of where all that food goes will be considered one of the great mysteries of life. The talk over supper is easy. Just small talk of what everyone is doing and how their weeks are going and what's new with Shawn and Atlanta and when can they meet his new girlfriend since Beth was brave enough to invite Daryl and Glenn's old news as far as they're concerned. He enjoys it. Everyone making someone else uncomfortable so no one has time to remind him _he_ should be the uncomfortable one.

There's pie for dessert and he can't move because he ate too much and Beth is on her second piece of pie when he lets his guard fully drop. It's been better than he expected. He expected gunfire and damnation and threats of bodily harm for defiling the youngest Greene on the floor of his living room. He's not going to complain, mind you. He's not stupid. But if that's the way he was going to go out it would have been worth it. There is nothing better than defiling the youngest Greene on any surface or any place that he can possibly think of so really, even if they strung him up and hauled him off, it would have been worth it.

Beth's talking to her brother and daddy in the other room while he's trying to help clear the table even though they keep shooing him out of the kitchen but he persists. That was the fatal flaw in his plan. Out of nowhere he's got two Greene women cornering him in the kitchen and that paranoia he carried with him and had all day until a few minutes prior? He shouldn't have let his guard down. He looks at them and he knows they know. They may not get a chance to kill him because he is going to have a heart attack. He is suddenly aware these women could kill him, dispose of his body and then talk to the cops like butter wouldn't melt in their mouths.

Hershel and Shawn? Kittens compared to the women in the kitchen with him. The urge to run hits him at the same time the nausea does and he hopes whatever they do to him is quick and painless. Or at least less painful than what he's imagining.

"I got the most interesting call last night Daryl. From Mrs. Jameson. Do you know her?" Annette says to him an light conversational tone. That tone is a lie. He hears the intent underneath it.

"Uh...yeah, I do," he tells her with the sudden feel of dryness in his throat.

"Hmm...do you know what she told me?"

"I have a fair idea."

"She had quite a bit to say actually, I won't bore you with the details but she was very insistent on telling me _exactly_ what she saw. I was certainly surprised to say the least. It's not every day you get an earful about your youngest and her...significant other and their intimate activities."

Daryl wanted to die. He wanted the floor to open and suck him in and just end it all for him. He can't get out of this one. There's no way. Witness protection, maybe? Not only will everyone (Rick) know about what happened, Beth's mama is staring him down like he took the last cookie off the plate and told her to fuck off. He doesn't know what to say. He really doesn't. So he stands there silently.

"You know what I told her?"

"Nah," he replies and he is too scared to ask thank you very much.

"I told her two things Daryl, one is that she shouldn't walk into peoples homes without a clear invitation and two is that you need to learn to lock your doors."

Wait.

What?

His head whips up because if anyone thought he was making eye contact during that they would be dead wrong. He looks at both women and they are struggling not to laugh.

"I told you it would be easy to scare him," Annette says, smiling at him.

"You were right, that was fun," Maggie tells her with a smirk.

"Are you going to tell Daddy?" he hears Maggie ask and he holds a breath because his brain suddenly remembered Hershel. Hershel who calls Beth doodlebug and has guns. Lots of guns.

"Of course not, Bethie would never forgive me if I got Daryl killed. I didn't tell Shawn either. And don't you go telling Glenn, you know he can't keep anything to himself."

Daryl doesn't know if he should be relieved or if they just got handed a lifetimes worth of blackmail on him. Blackmail. Definitely blackmail. These women are not to be messed with, that much is obvious.

Beth chooses that moment to come into the kitchen and tell him they should be going. That is the best news he's heard in at least 24 hours. At least. Also? He's moving.

There are hugs and kisses and shaking hands and come back soons and when they finally get in the truck and drive away he hears Beth ask, "Mama mess with you?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Oh, it was part of the deal I made with her last night to bribe her not to tell Daddy so he wouldn't kill you."

Oh. Simple as that. Like his potential heart attack and subsequent death were not considered when Annette Greene pinned him in the kitchen making him sweat and wish for death because he knows she knows about what he does to her daughter on a regular basis. Along with Maggie joining in he no longer trusts any woman related to Beth.

Those Greene women are going to be the death of him.

He kind of can't wait for it.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Once again I want to thank you all for the reviews/favorites/follows. I want to reply to each and every one of you but this site either makes it harder than necessary or I'm an idiot. Either one is completely possible. Also, this chapter is fluffed out. I mean, holy shit I didn't know I was capable of such fluff.**

Daryl fucking hates Halloween.

He hates people ringing his doorbell until late, he hates kids screaming from too much sugar and not getting what they want. He hates when Rick tries to force him into a costume for Judith and Carl. It's not for them, Rick is just a dick. But Beth? Beth loves Halloween. Then again, Beth loves all holidays. She probably celebrates Lincoln's birthday with an actual birthday cake.

He knew he wasn't getting out of celebrating this year. There would be no seeing Judith and Carl off and then hiding in a bar until everyone has gone home and he doesn't have to worry about it for another 364 days. No, this year there were pumpkins. And goo; the nasty shit that lives in pumpkins. Add that to his list of reasons to hate Halloween. And while he hates it there is nowhere he would rather be than watching Beth and Judith dissect a pumpkin. They are both covered in the goo. He doesn't even know what that slimy shit is called, but it's disgusting. Carl had already made his pumpkin and disappeared to do whatever it is teenagers do and while Beth hasn't said one word about putting him in a costume he trusts no one in Rick's house.

He's not even sure he should trust Beth. She won't even tell him what her costume is, only that she and Judy are going to match and he'll see when he sees and to leave her alone about it. He is apparently taking Judith out with Beth while Rick hands out candy. And Rick will be in his uniform as he is every year; for someone who is insistent that Daryl puts on a costume, Rick is decidedly lazy about his own.

By the time the pumpkin...mess is done he's thanking every deity he can think of that this night can finally get started so he can end it the way he likes best. Between Beth's legs. That's a holiday worth celebrating.

**0))oOo((0**

By the time Beth and Judith reappear he is half asleep on the couch and preparing to ignore any kids that ring the doorbell. As Rick walks in the door, the girls walk to the living room and he regrets everything bad he's ever said about pumpkins. Judith is quite possibly the cutest thing in orange he's ever seen. And Beth? Beth is the sexiest thing he's ever seen in orange. Where Judy's costume is puffy and stuffed and big with a little stem hat on her head, Beth's is not puffy or stuffed or big and she also has a little stem hat on her head. Her pumpkin also ends right below her ass. She's wearing black stockings and black heels and now he can honestly say that pumpkins are definitely an aphrodisiac. Which should be disturbing but he really doesn't care because he is really distracted by her legs. Even Rick is distracted by her legs. And maybe Daryl should care about that, but he doesn't because these are the kind of legs that make a man smug because they get wrapped around him and no one else.

They spend at least a couple of hours wandering around the neighborhood where Judith alternates between trying to walk and wanting to be carried and being scared of all the people and wanting to grab at the costumes. He would feel guilty for all the candy he's stolen from her but he's pretty sure she was given extra with Beth holding her. He knows he would have given her the all the candy he had if she had shown up at his door. Probably the keys to his truck and the deed to his house as well. Hell, he still might. Pumpkin Beth is something that should be revered. And by the gathering of teenage boys that have started trying (and failing) to discreetly follow them he's knows he's not alone in his assessment.

By the time they get back to Rick's Judith is asleep on Daryl's shoulder missing a shoe and is now the proud owner of an overflowing bucket of candy that Rick will eat by Christmas; Thanksgiving if Daryl can figure out where Rick hides it. It's barely 7pm but it's Judith's bedtime and possibly Daryl's and the idea of sitting down appeals to him. Immensely. Beth hands Judith over to Rick and they finally have a moment alone for the first time all night. Which is his preferred method of having time with Beth. But he is curious about one thing.

"Why didn't you try and get me to dress up?" he asks her as she puts her head on his shoulder.

"You didn't want to."

"Just like that? No arguments?"

"Just like that."

"Hmm."

"Hmm what? I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do. Well, not right now anyway."

"What does that mean?"

"Means I'm waiting until I have leverage."

"You're sneaky, you know that?"

"Mmmhmm."

Once Judith is asleep and all the kids have gone home and Rick is out of candy Daryl can finally take his pumpkin home. And that is something he has been looking forward to since he saw her come out in a vision of orange and black and green and blonde. The drive isn't very long but it feels like forever when all you can think about is getting a pair of impossibly long legs wrapped around you.

**0))oOo((0**

They're both tired by the time they make inside the house and as he heads to the kitchen for a drink, she's headed to the bedroom. And that's where he finds her less than 5 minutes later almost completely passed out still in her pumpkin costume, hat and all. He's not sure if there is a description for something adorable and sexy at the same time, but if there was it would be Beth. He's torn between letting her sleep and peeling those stockings off of her while kissing every inch of skin he can find. He debated for maybe five seconds before the second option became by far the most appealing.

He's slipping her shoes off and getting ready to take down the stockings when she gives him a sleepy smile and tries to help him along. He shoos her away because this is for him as much as it is for her. As he gets them off, he lets out a quiet laugh when he sees even her toes are painted bright orange. That's Beth though, dedicated to everything 110%. He's kissing her ankles, calves, thighs, and onto her hips as he pushes the costume up and he sees her tiny black lace panties. The kind of panties that belong on the floor. He gets the rest of her costume off and she's left there for him to look at wearing nothing but those panties, black lace bra, and stem hat. Like the kind of dream you didn't even know you wanted until you got it.

Once she's naked, he's pulling off his own shirt and kissing his way down her body, nipping and sucking every place that he knows she loves. He's making little circles on her thighs until she whimpers and he's lowering himself down and putting her legs over his shoulders and her whimpers turns into a moan as his tongue slides against her clit and she's got her hands in his hair and he's got his hands on her hips trying to hold her in place.

He can feel her getting closer as she her body flutters around the two fingers he had slid into her while she was trying in vain not to grind herself against his face. He tells her to let go and when she finally comes it's with a loud cry and sharp tug on his hair. That sleepy smile she had all but vanished as she sat up and attacked his belt and pants to get them off as quickly as possible. Once her goal was accomplished he was pulled onto the bed and she's climbing on top of him with a wicked smile as she straddled his waist and kissed him, hard. The kind of hard kisses where teeth and tongue clash and the only reason it doesn't hurt is because of the passion behind it.

He flips her over and cages her in with his body, covering her completely. He slides into her as she wraps her legs around his hips and back and they both let out low moans at the contact. She gives him less than a minute of thrusting before she flips them back over an she decides to settle on top of him in his lap. He can feel her nipples brush against his chest and there are few sensations that need to be preserved for all man kind but he's putting that one on the list. She's got him wrapped up in her arms and he's got his hands on her hips helping her move up and down on him.

She puts some distance between their bodies so she can trail one of her delicate hands down to her clit and as she's rubbing her fingers are lightly brushing along him and he needs that to stop or he is going to explode before long and that's not acceptable. Making sex last as long as possible with Beth is one of the highlights of his life. Not just because she's naked and not just because he's inside of who he thinks is by far the prettiest woman on the planet. It's because of the fact that he loves her. He does. There was little doubt before and each day he gets to be with her cements that fact further and further. So every moment he gets to be in love and make love to this girl is a moment that deserves to be prolonged and preserved.

He's got her flipped over again and she's still got her hand on her clit and he's biting all her sweet spots and trailing fingers over her nipples and the sounds she's making is making it very hard to concentrate on extending the experience. When he notices she's still wearing that little green and orange stem hat, he is distracted for a few seconds and he lets out a laugh and when she looks at him curiously he laughs harder because the picture of her face looking at him like he's insane is too much and he thanks whoever he needs to thank because that is exactly what he needed. He pulls the hat off her head and when she sees what he's doing she lets out a laugh as well. And he thinks maybe that's what love is. Someone to laugh with.

It's not long before she's got nails digging into his shoulders and is moaning his name as he moves in and out of her and he's breathing heavy into her neck while he's going as deep as he can. He can feel her body clamp down on him as she finishes with a loud cry of at least three dirty words and his name and he's not far behind with a groan and a _fuck_ breathed out into her hair while she's got her arms wrapped around his neck and they're both trying to calm their breathing and get under the covers before the air cools their skin and makes them cold.

He's got her curled up around him with her legs between his and he's got an arm around her back and he's breathing her hair in because there is nothing that smells like Beth. Nothing can compare to the girl in his arms and maybe she should know it. There isn't much he asks for and what he does have he would give up for another day with her if he had to make a choice. He hopes he never has to and he wants her to know that he would pick her every time.

"Hey," he whispers to her trying to gauge whether she is asleep or not.

"Yeah?" she answers in a sleepy voice opening her eyes just enough for him to see a hint of blue.

"I love you, you know that right?"

"I do now."

She has a small smile on her face as she starts to drift off and he's content just to hold her for awhile before he falls asleep when he hears, "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"I love you too, you know that right?"

"I do now."


End file.
